


Vulnera Sanentur

by EnInkahootz



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blow Jobs, Comfort, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Godfather-Godson Relationship, Healing Magic, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magic, Porn, Romance, Sex Magic, Takes place during Half-Blood Prince, Teacher-Student Relationship, Teen Angst, Teen Romance, Teenagers, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-09
Updated: 2019-04-09
Packaged: 2020-01-07 06:45:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18405290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EnInkahootz/pseuds/EnInkahootz
Summary: Draco has been wounded by Harry's use of the Sectumsempra curse, and is consumed by guilt and terror regarding the task Voldemort has assigned him.  His godfather Snape heals and comforts him.





	Vulnera Sanentur

Snape knelt beside Draco’s bleeding body. With precision he recited the healing incantation as he moved his wand over the wounds, rectifying the damage done by Harry’s use of the Sectumsempra curse. Gradually, Draco’s blood was drawn back inside him, separating from the pool of water in cloudy swirls, and his broken skin was mended.

Draco curled up on the wet bathroom floor, weeping and rocking his body. Snape hauled him into his arms. Though the wounds created by the curse inflicted temporary residual pain even after being healed, Snape could tell that Draco wasn’t crying about his physical injuries. He was crying about what Voldemort had bid him to do.

“I will protect you,” Snape told his godson assuredly.

Draco shook his head and opened his mouth, but he was crying too hard to speak his objection.

“Hush,” Snape told him. He pet Draco’s pale hair and rubbed his back. Draco hesitated, then leaned heavily against Snape as he struggled to breathe through his sobs. Snape wrapped Draco’s soaking wet body up in his cloak, held him to his chest, and apparated.

“But you can’t -” Draco gasped when they arrived in Snape’s bedroom.

“Apparate at Hogwarts?” Snape finished the sentence for him. “Yes, well, I manage to do a lot of things I oughtn’t,” Snape said by way of explanation as he gingerly set Draco down on an armchair and went to fetch a large, fluffy towel.

Draco let Snape matter-of-factly strip his wet, torn clothes and dry his hair and body. The heaving of Draco’s chest had calmed now, but silent tears still spilled from his eyes. Snape used the towel to wipe them away, though it did little good since they continued to dampen Draco’s cheeks.

When the rest of him was thoroughly dried, Snape picked Draco up again and lay him on the bed. He examined the places where the cuts had been, just in case, though he trusted that his spell had mended the skin. He wished that he could heal Draco’s emotional wounds as easily. 

“He chose me,” Draco whispered, “Uncle Severus, I have to do it. I have to kill him. I have to, I have to -”

“Hush,” Snape told him again, pressing a finger lightly to Draco’s lips. “I promise to protect you.”

Draco shook his head again, but Snape silenced any further objection with his lips, pressing them tenderly to Draco’s mouth. Draco returned his kiss at once, parting his lips invitingly and welcoming Snape’s gentle tongue between them, but after a moment Draco pulled back and looked at Snape with wide, questioning eyes. 

Snape hadn’t meant to kiss him that way. He had only wanted to soothe him, the way he had when Draco was a child, and he would curl up in Snape’s lap and Snape would kiss his hair. Now Draco was nearly grown, yet his physical and mental agony had reduced him to an echo of that small crying child Snape had felt overwhelmingly determined to protect. Some craving had been born when the intensity of Snape’s protectiveness was applied to Draco’s current form, so close to manhood, so bare and so lovely, and the urge had taken over Snape’s actions. He had intended to comfort, but Snape wondered if he had only given Draco a new problem to contend with.

“That was a mistake,” Snape declared. “We will forget it happened.”

Draco’s face fell.

“Do we have to?” he asked after a moment. Snape wasn’t sure what to say. Draco curled up against him. It was like when he was a child, and yet it was completely different. Snape wrapped his arms around Draco’s nude body. Draco nuzzled his face to the side of Snape’s neck and Snape held him close.

“Do we have to?” Draco asked again, his voice muffled by the fabric of Snape’s many layers and by the curtain of Snape’s dark hair. Draco rooted around until he found the bit of exposed flesh between the clothes and the hair and he pressed his lips to it. Snape sighed as a thrill ran through him. He resisted, for a token moment longer, then guided Draco’s head back and reunited their mouths. Draco melted into the embrace, deepening the kiss and pressing close, until he suddenly winced and pulled away, his hand flying to the former site of one of the cuts on his chest. 

“It still hurts?” Snape asked.

“A little.”

“Lie back,” he instructed, and Draco obeyed.

Wandless magic was a special talent, and one which Snape possessed, though it was considered improper to flaunt such skills. Snape used it often, but was always discreet. 

He hovered his hands over Draco’s chest and focused his power. A wisp of dark silver twirled from his right palm and Draco made a soft sigh. Snape focused and the wisp blossomed into a cloud of swirls that spread out over Draco’s body. Draco gasped. Snape called forth the energy from his left palm, and it added a layer to the cloud, thickening it to a dense fog of shimmering black.

He held his magic there for many long moments, pressing it to the echoes of Draco’s wounds. He could feel the remnants of pain, throbbing persistently, though they were unseen. Gradually, his magic powdered them, scouring them with steady pressure until friction wore the knots of pain away like rocks into sand. Snape started to get dizzy toward the end, but he was determined. When he was finally satisfied with his work, Snape drew his energy back inside himself. 

Draco sat up and patted the spots where the wounds had been.

“Better?” Snape asked.

“Yes, all better,” Draco replied with a smile, “thank you.” He kissed Snape with gratitude, slipping his tongue between his lips for just an instant before pulling away and staring pleadingly into Snape’s eyes. The pain in Draco’s eyes was so clear it made Snape’s heart ache. Snape wanted to make Draco feel better. That was all he had ever wanted. To protect him. He had already failed to save him from so much pain. Snape wanted to make it up to him. He wanted Draco to feel happy and light, to feel as though Voldemort didn’t have a hold on him, to feel as though he was free, if only for a short time.

Snape kissed his lips again before moving to Draco’s neck. Draco lay back and made an eager sound as he slid a hand into Snape’s hair. Snape mouthed over the skin, trailing a line down to Draco’s chest. Delicately, he kissed over where one of the wounds had been.

“It doesn’t hurt?” Snape confirmed, looking up at him.

“No,” Draco breathed, “it feels good, don’t stop, please, I like your lips on me.”

Snape felt his cock throb at that. He scattered kisses all over Draco’s chest and stomach, interspersing the presses of his lips with long laps of his tongue. He licked precise lines over where each cut used to be. He twirled the tip of his tongue around Draco’s nipples. He kissed across the width of Draco’s shoulders and up and down his arms, then sucked Draco’s fingers into his mouth. He rained kisses over Draco’s hips, then settled himself between Draco’s legs. Draco made little sounds of desire as Snape planted kisses and gentle nips over the sensitive flesh of his inner thighs. 

Snape paused then, staring at Draco’s erection, wanting so badly to take it into his mouth, yet questioning if this was wrong. Was he taking advantage of Draco? Using him when he should be helping him? Did the age difference make sexual interaction between them innately harmful to Draco? Was the power differential between them as student and professor ethically problematic? Did their godfather and godson relationship make this too near to incest? All these questions filled Snape’s mind, and he froze.

Then he felt Draco’s hand squeeze the back of his neck.

“Please?” Draco asked in a small voice.

Snape couldn’t bear to deny him then, nor did he wish to. He tenderly cradled Draco’s balls as he pressed his lips to the tip of his hardness. Draco gasped. Snape glanced up at him and Draco nodded with encouragement. Snape took just the head beyond his lips. He swirled his tongue around it as he gripped the shaft.

In a way it felt dirty and wrong, but somehow that was making it even more exciting, and Snape didn’t know whether or not he should feel guilty about his intense arousal. 

But in another way, it didn’t feel wrong at all. It felt like an expression of his affection, like the enactment of his desire to bring Draco happiness, to gift him with a moment of joy amidst the dark times that enveloped them.

Snape lowered his mouth onto Draco’s erection. 

“Yes,” Draco whispered.

Snape removed his hand from the base as he took Draco all the way down. He relaxed the muscles of his throat and pushed his head even farther onto Draco’s cock, shoving the tip past the back of his throat. Draco yelped, then groaned richly and grabbed onto a fistful of Snape’s hair. Snape began to raise his head, moving as slowly as he could, not to tease, but to savor. Once he had removed his mouth completely, he pressed his lips to the tip before lowering his mouth again. 

He increased his speed as gradually as he could bear, and Draco squirmed beneath him and made short, breathy cries. Snape slid his hands up Draco’s stomach as he sucked him. He could still feel the energetic scars of his wounds; though the skin was mended, though the pain was banished, Snape could feel the imprint that had been left behind. He stretched his arms up to stroke tenderly over as much of the invisibly scarred flesh as he could reach. He wished he could heal those scars, as he had sewn shut the cuts and rubbed away the pain, but Snape knew how the curse worked, and he knew those marks were part of Draco for good. Snape had designed the curse to work that way; even when healed, it left its secret signature on the victim.

Snape didn’t realize it was happening until Draco suddenly moaned so loudly it was nearly a yell. It was only then that Snape glanced up and saw that magic was coming from his hands again. He hadn’t felt the power seeping from him at first, but Snape noticed the sensation of it after the fact. Unlike earlier, it had come without effort or intention. It had been drawn out by Snape’s affection for Draco, by the strength of his protectiveness. Snape had yearned to heal even what he knew could not be healed; he had yearned for it so deeply that his magic had acted of its own accord.

But since Draco’s injuries were already healed, save for the permanent energetic markings, Snape’s unnecessary healing magic seemed to be converting itself into raw pleasure magic. Draco writhed and his cock flexed and pulsed inside Snape’s mouth as Snape’s power danced across his body. In his peripheral vision Snape saw the curls of dark sparkles undulating against Draco’s skin, bursting in tiny explosions over Draco’s most sensitive spots. Snape focused for a moment and directed a new swell of his magic to radiate from his lips and tongue. He bobbed his head faster as he let his energy wash over Draco’s hardness, and Draco bucked his hips and gripped Snape’s shoulders like he was falling.

“I want to come,” Draco shouted, and it sounded half like a request for permission and half like a warning. Snape pushed his head as far down as it could go, holding Draco all the way inside his mouth. He swallowed around the head of Draco’s cock and it happened at once, Draco making a garbled, desperate sound as he grabbed Snape’s head with both hands and gushed vehemently down his throat.

After Snape had swallowed every drop, he drew his magic back inside himself, then reached for the blanket that was folded along the foot of the bed. He settled beside Draco and pulled him near, laying the blanket over them both. Draco nestled against Snape’s chest. He dipped a hand below the blanket, his touch creeping toward the front of Snape’s pants, but Snape caught him by the wrist.

“Don’t you want to come too?” Draco asked him.

Snape kissed his hair. He felt a strong lust for Draco, but he didn’t want this to become about his own desire. He wrapped his arms snuggly around Draco’s body and hugged him close.

“Perhaps another time, Draco,” he told him softly, “for now, just rest.”

“Next time,” Draco murmured in reply, “soon,” he added, then raised his head and pressed his lips to Snape’s. Snape cradled Draco’s face and smiled down at him. Draco’s expression was dreamy, and Snape was glad to have given him some small distraction, some short respite, from the pain of the dark burden he carried. He took Draco’s hand into his own and Draco made a contented hum and huddled closer.


End file.
